


Pause

by FrankieFandom



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Car Accidents, Emotional Baggage, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Oops, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankieFandom/pseuds/FrankieFandom
Summary: Casey fears he’s finally turned into his mother.





	1. Fire

Casey was slumped forward in the hard-wooden chair, head hanging down towards his chest, arms stretched behind his back and roughly bound with plastic ties that cut into his flesh further every time he moved. His right eye was swollen shut and blood was running down his face, from a deep cut on his cheekbone and his split lip. He could barely feel his hands anymore and his head was pounding furiously as he struggled to stay conscious. He had no idea how long he had been in this dark, damp smelling room, only one man had been in to see him, questioning him, jeering at him, mocking him for being stupid enough to get involved in something he should have left alone, that he had been in way over his head. But he didn't know Casey, didn't know that he would always put the welfare of others before his own, no matter what the personal risk to himself or the danger he might face as a result. He was one of the most selfless people ever.

A small familiar sound made Casey tilt his head a little to look sideways at the man. The strike of a match. The tiny flame took hold and flew through the semi darkness at the far side of the room where debris and trash was piled up, it burst into flames immediately.

"Get yourself out of this one, firefighter," the man's voice sneered as he approached Casey and shoved him violently so the chair fell over. Casey landed on the floor, with a thud and a winded groan as his head hit concrete, stunning him. He struggled in vain against the bonds but all they did was cut further into his wrists. From his left eye he could see booted feet walk away and he heard a door bang as he was left alone.

The fire was crackling and popping dangerously close to where Casey lay but it wasn't the fire he was worried about. It was the smoke. His eyes streamed and he coughed relentlessly, his body struggling for oxygen. Unable to protect himself from the deadly fumes and smoke in the small room, he knew he would die from smoke inhalation and as he fell unconscious, his last clear thoughts were of Severide. He was glad he wasn't here, glad that he was safe, happy he was unharmed. Just as consciousness faded away, Casey imagined he heard his voice.

Severide had burst into the smoke ridden building without waiting for the CFD, ripping of his shirt and tying part of it around his face to cover his nose and mouth. Two police officers were shouting after him but he ignored them and tore away into the building's interior. Boden had given him permission to ride along with the CPD and they had finally managed to discover Casey's whereabouts. He'd been missing for two days and Severide's head wasn't in the game at work.

It didn't take Severide very long to find Casey. He followed the trail of smoke, breaking through the door without a second thought for his own safety, he just had to get Casey out, no matter the consequences. Smoke was billowing from the room and for a moment, Severide had to cover his face against it. Inside, the flames were roaring and crackling, growing stronger by the minute, sucking all the oxygen from the remaining air.

He went in.

The bindings held Casey firmly to the chair, Severide wondered to himself if it would be quicker if he just dragged Casey along on the chair rather than waste time trying to free him. But he managed to get the bindings off easily so he could pick Casey up. He slung his dead weight over his shoulder and raced out of the room, running back through the flames that now danced along the corridor to the exit.

The CFD were on the scene when Severide emerged from the building with Casey over his shoulder. Severide emerged through the acrid black smoke that was now billowing freely out of the exit doors. He almost staggered as he ran a clear distance from the building so he could lay Casey on the ground. Despite coughing unrelentingly from smoke inhalation, Severide knelt down by Casey's inert and bloody form, trying to start chest compressions without wasting a second. Only now could Severide see the huge and very real extent of Casey's injuries. There was black soot covering Casey's lips and nose. He was pale underneath all the grime and dirt. Chest unmoving without Severide's compressions. His wrists raw and bloody. Ribs and abdomen bruised and cut.

The paramedics had headed straight over to them. "Ok… we got it from here, buddy," one of them told Severide, who moved away gladly to let one of them maintain the compressions on Casey's chest.

There was an array of frantic action taking place to examine Casey and get him breathing on his own again. ECG pads were placed on his bare chest. They inserted an IV cannula and started giving him fluids, and prepared to intubate Casey but there was a tense exchange, the paramedics knew more drastic measures were needed. "I can't get this tube in…"

"We need to trache him…"

One of them continued compressions, the other prepared a tracheotomy kit.

Blood welled out as the blade made the first swift, deep incision.

"Stop. Tube's in... ok, get him bagged..."

The ambu-bag was connected to the tube and Casey's chest began moving up and down as his lungs received the oxygen his body so badly needed. The paramedic taped some gauze over the incision on his throat, sealing it.

Severide studied the portable monitor, his heart rate was rising, becoming less erratic, his oxygen intake was increasing. He let out a sigh of relief and sat back, grabbing Casey's hand. "Thank you…" he breathed out, staring down at Casey's face.

A little later Boden found Severide waiting in the ER. He was sitting down with his head in his hands, covered in soot, wearing a rumpled shirt and smelling like smoke. "What the hell happened?" Boden questioned him, not bothering with any formal greeting, too concerned with the health of his truck lieutenant.

"Found him too late…" Severide muttered.

Boden's heart plummeted. "What?"

"He wasn't breathing when I got to him… don't know how long for…"

"What happened?" Boden asked, trying to get a clear response.

"I still don't know. He was tied to a chair, the place was on fire," Severide answered.

"They're still working on him?"

Severide nodded.

"How badly was he burnt?"

"Just his arms I think, maybe second degree… but he wasn't breathing for so long, they nearly had to trache him, his airways were swollen and…"

"Kelly, it doesn't sound like he was found too late," Boden told him.

"They won't let me see him," he spoke.

"I'll see if I can find anything out. Hold tight."

Severide was standing up when Boden returned. "Anything?"

"He's awake," Boden responded.

"He is? They haven't told me anything, wouldn't let me see him…"

"You can see him now, he's not talking apparently…"

Casey didn't look as bad as Severide had expected when he walked into the ER bay. He was bruised and his eye was swollen, but he'd been cleaned up, the only remains of the fire were seen in his blond hair and under the pristine white bandages on both arms, wrapped from his knuckles to his elbows. He was attached to monitoring equipment and wearing a nasal cannula and hospital gown.

"Hey, Casey…" Severide began gently, seeing that his eyes were open but he hadn't looked at him as he'd entered. He pulled a stool over and sat down by Casey's side. "Your hair could do with a wash, surprised one of the nurses hasn't offered," he spoke, not knowing what else to say because his friend hadn't even acknowledged his presence, or Boden's, who was standing by the end of the gurney now.

Boden cleared his throat. "How are you feeling, lieutenant?" he asked with an air of authority. "Are you in any pain?"

Severide cast his eyes over to his chief. "Have they given him something?"

"Nothing that would do this," Boden responded quietly. "I'm going to speak to the doctor again…"

"Oxygen deprivation?" Severide asked him before he walked away.

Boden looked back at Casey, he gave a small uncharacteristic shrug and then left.

"Bet your throat hurts, right? You can have some ice chips, if you want? They said you're not allowed to drink too much yet. Do you want me to get some ice chips for you?"

Severide was only met with silence. Casey hadn't moved an inch, he was staring down at the standard issue hospital sheet that was covering him.

He swallowed. "I'm glad you're all right, Casey… sorry I wasn't faster, they didn't know where you were…" He held back a sigh at Casey's silence. "Are you comfortable? Warm enough?"

Severide was actually relieved when Boden returned. He stood up, smiling at Casey, then headed over to Boden.

Boden spoke in a lowered voice. "They're going to send someone from psych down, they don't think this is physical…"

"It must be," Severide said immediately. He shook his head. "He wouldn't just stop talking… look at him…"

"Kelly, we don't know what happened to him, the doctors don't know what happened to him, no one does…"

"Was he… was he…" Severide couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"There's no physical evidence that anything other than being beaten and trapped in that fire happened to him," Boden told him, repeating what the doctor had explained.

"Physically he'll ok, right?"

Boden nodded. "You've seen the burns. He also has some broken ribs and an intercostal muscle strain but they can't do much other than painkillers and ice apparently. He'll recover, physically he's going to be fine."

Severide turned his head back to Casey, he'd not moved, he'd still not even acknowledged their presence. "Can I do anything? What do I do?"

"Just wait, we don't need to worry too much yet…"

"Worry? I'm way past worry!" Severide's voice raised.

"Kelly…" Boden spoke, quietening Severide, he'd just seen Casey flinch at the raised voice.

Severide turned to see Casey still lying in the hospital bed, eyes cast down. He looked to his chief and then stepped back into the bay. He closed the door behind himself.

"That's better, isn't it? Bit quieter, yeah?" he spoke, nodding encouragingly. He pulled the chair over from the corner of the room so he could be nearer to Casey, he sat down. "Get some rest. I'll be here the whole time; how does that sound?"

Casey's head moved a little and he looked at Severide.

Severide smiled, hoping to reassure him.

When Casey woke a while later, he discovered Severide sitting watchfully in a chair by his right side. Severide was speaking to him but he wasn't listening, he looked around the room, taking him a moment to realise he was in the hospital.

"Matt?"

"Why am I here?" he questioned, his voice hoarse.

"Smoke inhalation, and some second-degree burns. You broke some ribs, strained a muscle on your chest wall, you'll be fine."

"Where…" he swallowed. "Where exactly is here?"

"You're still in the ER," Severide told him.

After a moment Casey spoke again. "Did you find me?"

"Yes."

Casey looked towards him again. His lower lip trembled. "Thank you."

Severide just smiled at him. Pleased he was talking and seemed relatively healthy. "Are you in any pain?"

"M'fine. Thanks."

Severide nodded. "Good. You need to stay here overnight, maybe tomorrow night as well," Severide told him

"Why?"

"Smoke inhalation. You… you weren't breathing and they struggled to intubate…"

Slowly Casey's hand went to his throat, he frowned a little as he touched the gauze.

"Yeah, they were about to trache you," Severide explained. "You'll get a nice little room all to yourself soon, they'll come and take you up, I should be able to stay for a while as well."

"I feel fine."

"Matt… no one expects to feel fine after what happened…"

"Do you know what happened?" Casey asked him.

"Erm… no."

"Ok. Good… does anyone know?"

"No… Matt, what did happen?" he questioned.

"Nothing."

Severide nodded his head with resignation. "Of course."

"When can I go home?" he asked again, voice breaking with the strain of talking.

"Matt, you can barely talk, and you're short of breath, and I already said; they're definitely keeping you overnight for observation, and possibly tomorrow night as well."

"Can you get the doctor…"

"Matt, he's not going to say anything different to what I've just said, I spoke to him whilst you were sleeping, you can't use puppy dog eyes on him, he won't let you leave."

"I'll sign out AMA…"

"Hell no, buddy, not happening. All right?"

Casey's shoulders dropped. "Sorry…"

"Cops also need to speak to you, but for now if they ask, I can say you're sleeping," Severide told him.

"You can tell them… tell them I don't remember…"

"Matt, the guy got away," Severide told him.

"I don't know what happened," Casey said adamantly.

Casey returned to the apartment he shared with Severide two days later. Severide had given him a ride home and he walked slowly behind him as they made their way inside, Severide put Casey's bag down.

"Are you all right?" Severide asked him, he'd not spoken much since the police had entered his hospital room earlier that morning.

Casey nodded in response. "Thanks for the ride…"

"Yeah, no…" Severide began but Casey had already walked away. "No problem…" he finished with a sigh as he heard Casey's bedroom door close. Severide wasn't going to pester him or get in his way, he knew Casey well enough, he knew he'd just push him away, so he went out and let Casey have the place to himself until he returned in the evening.

Severide spent the entire time he was out worrying about Casey, so much so he almost rear-ended car at the crossroad by their apartment block. When he got home it looked like Casey had stayed in his bedroom, tentatively Severide knocked on his door, upon hearing nothing he opened it and entered.

He stopped in his tracks as he heard the distinctive sound of Casey's muffled sobs. He was on his side, back facing the door but Severide could see the outline of the bed covers trembling as Casey cried.

Severide's heart tore in two. "Matty…"

The sobs stopped, but only because Casey had frozen, holding his breath.

"It's all right, it's actually good to cry. Therapeutic in a way," Severide said, slowly approaching the side of the bed so he could face Casey. "Matt, breathe."

Casey let out a shuddering breath and the sobs continued. He cried and cried until his body was too exhausted to stay awake.

Severide remained knelt by the side of the bed, unable to do anything but watch as Casey had cried himself to sleep. He hadn't even been able to hold his hand.

It went on for weeks. Casey's physical wounds healed, but emotionally he was all over the place. Severide was at a loss, and he felt like he was lying to everyone at the firehouse, telling them Casey was fine and he'd be back on shift soon. Soon was a very long way off. The worst thing about it was not knowing what to do to help him, no one knew what had happened to Casey in the days he was missing, what exactly had taken place to traumatise him like it had.

At his recent check-up, which Severide had almost had to drag him to, there was talk of seeing a therapist, even talk of an in-patient psychiatric stay, but the doctor didn't want to force Casey into anything, it was only likely to make things worse. Casey was only sleeping when he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open, he was only eating when Severide physically helped him, he was wetting the bed, and only showering and brushing his teeth when Severide stood in the bathroom with him.

It was like something inside of him had broken. He was almost unrecognisable. 


	2. Water

A light blinded Casey's eyes. It took him a while to realise he was outside in the rain, wearing only socks and his pyjama pants.

"Are you all right, sir?"

Casey gazed at the man standing in front of him.

"Sir?" the voice came again, the light flashed in front of his eyes once more.

"Sorry… what?" Casey spoke finally, realising there was actually two men in front of him, two police officers.

"What's your name?"

"Uh… Matt Casey…"

"Do you know where you are, Mr Casey?" the police officer asked him

"Erm… no…"

"Where do you live?" the man continued.

Casey answered the man, still confused as to why he was outside in the rain.

"You're only three blocks away, we'll give you a ride back, all right?"

Casey nodded numbly and one of the officers physically helped him into the back of their squad car.

Severide was woken by the police officers knocking at the door. The last thing he'd expected to see was Casey standing between two police officers, wearing only pyjama pants and socks.

"Matt?" Severide began, not over the shock of finding him standing at the door. "God… are you all right? I thought you were in bed…"

"Found him wondering three blocks away," one of the officers explained.

"What were you doing, Matt?" Severide asked him, concerned etched across his features.

Casey just shook his head, his damp hair dripped down his forehead.

"Looks like he might have been sleepwalking," the officer suggested.

"Well, thanks for bringing him home," Severide responded. The police officers left and Severide looked Casey up and down. "You must be freezing… come inside. Matt, come on…"

Casey was gazing at him, not moving at all.

"Matty…" He took Casey's arm and led him inside, closing the door whilst Casey remained where Severide had left him.

An hour later, Severide sat down with a heavy sigh. He was at a loss. He'd just helped him to shower, physically having to remove his pyjama pants and boxers, then washing him, getting himself soaked in the process, before drying Casey off with a large towel, redressing him and putting him back to bed. Severide didn't know what to do anymore, Casey needed help, much more help than he could give him, he needed professional help.

In the morning, Casey appeared from his bedroom, Severide wasn't sure he'd even get out of bed today so he was pleased to see him getting a large glass of orange juice. He didn't know how to approach what had happened last night but he knew they needed to talk about it, although it was clear Casey was planning on ignoring him as he started heading back to his bedroom with the drink in his hand.

"Are we gonna talk about last night?" Severide spoke up, stopping Casey in his tracks.

Casey just shot him a cold look.

"Matt, I'm worried," he continued.

"I'm fine," Casey retorted, in a tone that was anything but fine.

"You're fine? How are you fine? I had to wash you last night, and it's not the first time…"

"Sorry," Casey muttered, putting the glass of juice down on the side.

"I don't need an apology, I just… you're not fine… don't you want to go back to work?"

Casey just shrugged.

"Matt?"

"I don't care," he responded honestly.

"You don't care?"

He shook his head.

"I'm not sure that's true, Matt," Severide spoke. 

"It is… and it scares me. Firefighting has always been something I've loved, being able to help people… but I don't care anymore…"

"Are you… are you worried, maybe, because that guy got away? That he could come back? Maybe if you spoke to the police again, you'd feel better, safer, want to go back to work… I'm not gonna let that guy get to you again though, and I don't think he's coming back…"

"Coming back?" Casey repeated.

"The guy who hurt you," he said, frowning a little. 

"Oh… yeah… it's nothing to do with that," Casey mumbled, shaking his head.

"How is this nothing to do with that?"

"It was just a thing that happened, I'm over it," Casey responded. 

"You're clearly not over it," he retorted. 

"How can you stand here and say what I'm over with or not?" Casey questioned, voice heated now.

"I can't, I'm sorry, I'm just worried."

"You already said," Casey replied scathingly.

"Look, why don't we sit down," he suggested. "I don't think it's healthy to just go back to bed right now."

Resigned, Casey let out a soft sigh, grabbed his drink and headed over to the couch.

Severide followed him and sat down, leaving space between them.

"I'm sorry about last night," Casey spoke before Severide could direct the conversation.

"You don't need to be sorry, if anything you could do with a 'I'm sorry' jar…"

"A what?"

"Like a swear jar?"

"Oh, right, sorry…"

Severide let out a short chuckle. "See?"

"My mom was crazy," Casey announced suddenly.

"Erm… What?" he questioned, not sure where Casey was going now.

"Maybe I'm crazy too… she wasn't always like it…" Casey spoke quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's schizophrenic, was always off her meds," Casey explained.

Severide was silent, taking in what Casey had said, he'd never mentioned it before, Severide had never suspected anything like it. "Doesn't mean you are… I know you're not," he told Casey.

"There's something wrong with me though," Casey continued.

"Matt, you were kidnapped, beaten and almost killed," he retorted.

"I was fine, now… now, I'm hearing voices…"

It took Severide a moment to figure out how to respond to Casey's confession. "That… that must be really frightening for you."

Casey just nodded.

"You never told me about your mom before? I can't imagine what that would have been like to grow up with," Severide continued, not wanting Casey to stop talking now.

"She was delusional, she shot dad," he explained, looking ahead, not wanting to see Severide's face as he delved deeper into his past.

"I always assumed your dad was…"

"Abusive?" Casey shook his head as he spoke.

"Yeah…"

"He… he had issues too, he never hit me, not without a good reason," he explained.

Severide cleared his throat. "These voices, Matt, what do they say?"

Casey looked even further away, shaking his head again.

"You can tell me," Severide urged.

"I'm crazy," he responded, still shaking his head.

Severide shrugged. "If you were crazy, you'd think you weren't."

"Really?"

"I'm no expert but, I know that much," Severide replied, offering him a small smile. "What do the voices say?"

Casey leaned over so he could speak quietly into Severide's ear. "They tell me to… hurt myself, to hurt you and everyone else… that's the only way they'll stop. They hate me, they say I should have burned. I should have burned."

Severide sat back, unable to respond.

"Sorry… sorry… I keep trying to just not think, and sometimes everything just disappears… time just goes… like… like last night, I don't remember anything… and I don't remember most of the hospital stay, I don't remember getting home, I don't remember what happened to me, and I don't want to remember."

"Ok, that's… a lot to be dealing with, and frightening," Severide spoke, repeating his earlier comment. "I'm glad you've told me."

"It is frightening," he admitted. "And… I think I'm glad I told you… I think… just, please don't hate me too."

"I don't hate you, far from it," Severide insisted, putting a gentle hand on Casey's arm.

Casey nodded, biting his lower lip, trying to stop emotions from pouring out. "I'm going back to bed," he said as he stood up, Severide's hand fell away.

"Ok, I'm not going out so, if you need me, I'm here."

Despite Casey's confession the next few weeks continued in the same way as they had since Casey had been dragged out of the fire, barely clinging onto life. Severide couldn't get him to seek any professional help. He was at the point now where he was considering getting Casey admitted to a hospital himself. Casey was only getting worse.

Severide had his head in his hands, sitting at his desk in his quarters at the firehouse, when Boden knocked and entered. "The incident report from your last shift, it's incomplete," he said, putting the folder down in front of his squad lieutenant.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chief," Severide responded wearily, wiping his hands across his face.

"Late night?"

"Erm… yeah," he admitted.

"Casey?" Boden presumed. He knew his truck lieutenant was struggling, he'd not responded to any of his phone calls or messages so he'd decided to give him some space, wait for Casey to come to him, but he didn't like being kept out of the loop.

"Yeah," he said, nodding.

"I've tried calling him, he hasn't responded," Boden went on.

"He won't," he replied, shaking his head. "Doesn't want anything to do with the CFD," he added.

"His reasoning?"

Severide shrugged. "I don't know exactly. He's really struggling though, and I am too. He needs help. Almost called an ambulance last night…"

"What's going on, Kelly?" Boden implored.

"He needs help," he responded quietly. "I'm not the right person to help him, to an extent I can but, Chief, he really needs to see a doctor."

"What's happening?"

He turned his head to look at Boden. "He's hearing voices, he's having catatonic phases, he's sleep walking. His mom… his mom is schizophrenic and he's worried he is too, so am I now he's told me… you knew?" he asked at the look on his chiefs face. 

"About his mom, yes," Boden answered.

"But he… he never even told me until now," he said.

"He didn't want to tell me, after his mom was released from the hospital…"

"Hospital? She was in prison?" Severide questioned.

"No, she was in a secure psychiatric facility, she was doing well so they decided to put her on outpatient services," Boden told him.

"She killed his dad though," he stated, frowning.

"She was off her medication at the time apparently, she was released on parole because she was being cooperative and doing well, but it wasn't a smooth transition, Matt struggled with it, she was staying at his house…"

"Yeah, he told me that at least," Severide commented, a small sigh escaping his lips.

"Basically she got into some trouble and Matt needed to leave shift, it wasn't the first time so I wanted to know what was going on," Boden explained.

Disbelieving, Severide shook his head. "And he told you?"

"No, not right away, but in the end, he had to," Boden clarified.

"Do you know where his mom is now?" he asked.

"Half-way house, living with Matt wasn't going to work out, I think he felt very guilty about that," Boden answered.

"He feels guilty about everything…"

"I imagine he's avoiding professional help at all costs right now, but, Kelly, it sounds like he really needs it."

When Severide arrived home from his shift he headed straight into Casey's bedroom, the smell of urine hit him immediately, he flung open the curtains and cracked open the window. His task was waking Casey, it took a while and he was unresponsive even once he was conscious. He got him up, his body moving into any position Severide put him in, and he followed his instructions to walk. Severide then washed him, dressed him and sat him on the couch in the lounge before stripping the bed and changing the sheets.

He fed Casey, spooning the cereal into his mouth and instructing him to chew, more than half of it landed on his lap and dribbling down his chin.

"Sorry," Severide muttered as he wiped Casey's chin clean. He put the cloth down and sat back on his knees, perched and looking up at Casey. "We can't keep doing this, I know you can hear me, I don't think you'll remember though? But this isn't good, Matt, I can't help you…"

Severide sighed heavily and got to his feet, he really didn't know how long he could deal with this. He took his next shift off, realising he couldn't leave, and didn't want to leave Casey on his own. Casey was having one of his good days though, he was alert and even ate breakfast on the couch next to Severide.

"I was thinking, might be a good idea to get out of the apartment today… the reason I've taken the day off, well, it was a pretty rough shift the other day, think I need to clear my head," Severide told Casey, brightly, his own mood improved because Casey was awake and aware.

"Are you ok?" Casey asked him, concerned.

"I'm fine, everyone's fine," he responded, continuing the façade. "Just needed a little break. Thought it would be nice if we could do something together though."

"Sure, all right." Casey nodded.

"We could go for lunch? Just to our usual coffee place?"

"Erm… ok," Casey responded, a little more unsure now but wanting to please Severide.

They sat in the middle of the busy diner and their order was taken quickly, it took some prompting for Casey to order more than just a black coffee, in the end he'd chose the same lunch as Severide. They chatted whilst they waited for their food, but the conversation felt forced, Severide was leading it, trying to have a normal discussion, but nothing was normal anymore.

"This is all right, isn't it?" Severide asked him as he tucked into his lunch.

Casey nodded.

"Your food ok?"

Casey nodded again.

"I'm really glad you're here, really, this is nice," Severide continued.

Casey was no longer paying attention, he was looking over his left shoulder.

"Matt, talk to me," Severide urged.

He still wasn't listening to Severide though, he was too distracted.

"Matt," Severide spoke firmly, trying hard to regain Casey's attention. "Listen to me, focus on me, not anything else…"

Suddenly Casey was scrunching up his eyes and yelling. "Stop it! Stop it!"

"Matt… it's fine, it's fine, look at me!" Severide pleaded, fully aware of the unwanted attention Casey had attracted. His words were doing nothing to get through to him, Casey was now slamming his hands hard against his head. He had no choice but to stand up, and grab Casey's forearms from across the table.

Casey screamed.

He dashed out of the diner, off the sidewalk and straight into the oncoming traffic. He didn't get very far. As Severide reached the sidewalk there was a screech of brakes and a sickening thud as a van came to a halt. Casey's body was flung through the air like a doll.

"Call an ambulance!" Severide yelled out as he ran over to Casey's prone form, limbs at angles they shouldn't be.

The driver was getting out of the van. "I didn't see him, he just ran out…"

Severide was paying no attention to the man. He was focused on Casey. "Matty, Matt… can you hear me?"

There was blood running down Casey's face.

Severide tried to rouse him, rubbing his chest, trying not to move him too much. "Matt, come on… wake up… Matt…"

His persistence worked. Casey's eyes flickered and his mouth parted, uttering a small groan.

"Talk to me," Severide urged.

"Kel…"

"Yeah, I'm here. You're all right, ambulance is on the way, just need you to stay with me, all right?" Severide continued, his hand on Casey's cheek.

Casey could hear the sirens in the distance above the rest of the noise buzzing around his head. His chest hurt, his arms hurt, his legs hurt. Everything hurt and his head was throbbing madly. It felt like he'd been hit by a truck, and if he'd been more lucid he would have realised he had been hit by a van, whose driver was standing at the scene, still in shock.

Severide could do little as the ambulance finally arrived, the paramedics made a path through the crowd that had gathered.

Casey had fallen unconscious before the paramedics reached his side. It didn't take long to get him into the back of the ambulance, strapped to a back board, with his left arm in a splint, c-collar around his neck and IV cannula. Severide jumped into the back of the rig, quickly sitting as close to Casey as he could, holding his hand.

Hours had passed by, Severide was standing in the ER, waiting to see Casey, he'd been told his injuries weren't life threatening, broken arm and collarbone, more broken ribs, sprained wrist, concussion, heavy contusions and grazes over most of his body despite the layers of clothes he had been wearing.

"He's very lucky, we need to keep him here for twenty-four hours, but, Kelly, if you think he walked out into traffic on purpose we can put him on a seventy-two hour psych hold…" the doctor explained softly. Severide recognised her from Molly's, he'd spoken to her a few times in the past.

"Psych hold?" he repeated.

"Yeah, someone will come down and assess him, see if he's likely to hurt himself again," she responded.

"He didn't mean to do it… but…"

"What is it?" she urged.

"But maybe he did… I don't know… he's…" He shook his head as he trailed off.

"It's ok, Kelly, go on."

"He's been struggling recently... he's not been back to work since he was held captive. He's hearing voices, and he…" he paused, letting out a breath. Now he'd started it was easier to go on. "He's sleep walking, wetting the bed, catatonic at times, not eating, crying himself to sleep, or not sleeping. His mom is schizophrenic and when he's lucid he's begging me not to let anyone know any of this, I spoke to my Chief about it but I didn't follow his advice, I thought… I wanted to be able to help him on my own because he doesn't accept help easily. But me helping… well, that got him hit by a car today."

She nodded sympathetically. "It's understandable, he's your friend, you just want to do what's best for him."

"Yeah… will he know? Will he know that I caused the psych hold?"

"No," she told him.

"Ok. I think you should do it then."

A nurse walked up to them and spoke. "He's awake."

"Is he talking?" the doctor asked him.

The nurse shook his head. "Not to me, he's just looking up at the ceiling."

"We'll go in together, Kelly," the doctor said, leading the way to Casey's cubicle.

Severide remained back as the doctor examined Casey, she spoke to him but he said nothing in response, he didn't even acknowledge their presence. She turned her head to look at Severide. "Is this what he's like at home?"

He nodded. "Sometimes he'll follow instructions," he told her.

"Matt, can you lift your right arm?" she asked Casey.

Casey did as he was told, slowly lifting his right arm from his side.

"Thank you. You can put it down now," she spoke. She smiled at Casey and walked over to Severide, who'd not moved any closer to the bed.

"There's something really wrong with him? I should have made him go back to his doctor," Severide said, wracked with guilt.

"He's in the right place now, no point in blaming yourself," she responded. "We'll get him the help he needs."

Severide just nodded in response, eyes fixed on Casey, who had still not moved voluntarily. His whole body was bruised and battered, below the white gauze that was affixed to his forehead his left eye was swollen. There was cast on his right arm, his left wrist was secured in a blue brace and he was being given fluids and painkillers through the IV cannula in the crook of his arm. It hadn't been long since he'd last seen him in a hospital bed, unaware of the world, this time it felt even harder though.


	3. Air

Casey woke slowly and painfully, his body felt heavy, and his head was throbbing. He would have been quite happy to just fall back to sleep but there was an irritating sound filling the eye, making him scrunch his eyes shut in annoyance.

It was then he heard another sound, a voice. "Matt?"

He recognised that voice straight away, and he could hear the concern. He forced his eyes open, shutting them immediately at the onslaught of light.

"Hang on…" Severide told him.

Casey heard him move, but he kept his eyes firmly closed against the piercing light.

"You can open your eyes now," Severide spoke softly, well aware he'd have one hell of a headache right now.

He trusted Severide so he did as he said.

"Hi," Severide greeted him, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Kelly?"

"Yeah, do you want the doctor? Some more painkillers?" Severide asked.

He looked at Severide with a bewildered expression. "Doctor? Where…"

"Sorry, yeah… you're in the hospital, in the ER. You were in an accident, you're gonna be ok," Severide told him.

"Accident?" he repeated.

"You've been really lucky really. Broken collarbone and arm, some ribs too, sprained wrist and you're bruised and scratched all over. You'll be sore for a while but shouldn't be anything permanent," Severide explained.

"I don't remember what happened," he said simply, noticing the cast on his arm now.

Severide offered him a smile. "Concussion explains that."

"When can I go home?"

Severide hesitated for a second before responding. "They want to keep you here for a bit."

"But you said I'm ok?" Casey half questioned, frowning.

"They need to observe you for seventy-two hours," he answered.

"Seventy-two hours... am I on a psych hold? Did I... did I try to kill myself?" Casey's voice broke as he spoke.

"No, no, Matt, it was an accident," he told him quickly, trying to reassure him.

"Then why?"

"Everyone's worried about you," Severide responded.

Casey was silent for a few moments, Severide wasn't sure if he was thinking or if he'd just zoned out, but then he spoke. "Maybe I have a brain tumour. Hope it's a tumour…"

"What?"

"Then I'm not crazy," Casey explained his thought process.

Severide sighed softly, giving Casey a sad smile. "A doctor is going to come and talk to you, about what's been going on in your head."

"They won't let me leave," Casey said, shaking his head now despite the pain.

"They will," he insisted. "I promise, Matt."

"He already suggested in patient treatment…"

"Suggested, that's the key word there. And this is a… a more specialised doctor. Will you talk to him?"

Casey's eyes shifted to the right, something he did when he was trying to keep his emotions in check, when he was desperate to hold it all together. He nodded.

"I think it's a really good idea, I know you're worried, scared enough to wish you had a brain tumour…"

"Sorry," Casey spoke, eyes glancing at Severide's compassionate expression.

"They'll get to the bottom of it, it's not gonna be some quick solution but it's all gonna work out. You know why I think that?"

Casey shook his head a fraction, not wanting to aggregate his ever-increasing headache.

"Because you're one hell of a tough guy, even if you don't feel like you are… I think you should have some more painkillers though," Severide added.

Casey just frowned a little.

"You have a headache."

The frown remained on Casey's face.

"You have a concussion so you definitely have a headache, and probably feel sick too," Severide continued. "They'll probably knock you out a bit too," he added.

"I'd like that…" Casey commented quietly.

"Thought you would," he responded sadly. "They'll have to keep waking you every couple of hours, but least you can avoid the shrink for a little longer."

Severide called the nurse over and Casey was given some more painkillers, it didn't take long for them to kick in, his eyes glazed over, his lips parted and he soon fell into a pain free sleep. Severide couldn't relax though, the knot in his stomach and tension in his shoulders, which had both been a constant feeling for weeks now, still didn't disappear as Casey slept peacefully. Casey's physical injuries may not create any permanent problems but it was a big setback and he would be in pain, and sore for a while yet. And he knew for sure it wouldn't do him any good mentally either. It was so hard to see Casey struggle like this, it almost felt like they were trapped in some sort of alternate universe where someone was pulling the strings, not letting him have a reprieve.

It was a whole twenty-four hours before the doctor from the psychiatric department came to speak to Casey, but the staff had been observing him. He'd asked Severide to stay with him, it had taken all the courage he had just to ask that, he wasn't sure he had any left in him to even respond to the doctor now. Severide's presence gave him strength though, and he allowed him to speak for him, in a way it was better like that, especially since Casey was having trouble with his memories, before he was even hit by the van.

"Tell me what happened to cause your injuries," the doctor spoke.

"I was hit by a van," Casey responded. The doctor had been speaking to him, asking him what felt like a thousand questions in the past half hour, he was exhausted and he was in pain. His whole body was stiff and sore, and his head was still throbbing, even a whole day after the accident.

The man nodded. "How did that happen?"

Casey remained silent.

"What can you remember?" he continued.

"Ordering lunch at the diner, then Kelly said I got hit by the van," Casey responded.

Severide spoke up. "He… erm… I think he was hearing voices, he…" he paused, looking at Casey, struggling to say this in front of him. He steeled himself. "He was hitting his head, yelling, then he ran out, straight into the road."

"You don't remember any of that, Matt?"

Casey shook his head.

"Ok, and these voices, are they always there?" the doctor asked.

He shook his head again, looking down at the cast that covered the lower half of his arm.

"What do they say?"

He just shrugged, desperate to make himself disappear right now, trying to shrink down into the bed.

"It's all right, Matt, it's really good that you're talking to me," the doctor said sympathetically. "Do the voices ask you do things? Bad things?" he asked, presuming so from Casey's reactions, and what Severide had explained.

Casey nodded.

"What do they say, Matt?" he urged.

When Casey didn't respond, Severide told the man what Casey had admitted weeks ago. "They tell him to hurt himself, and others, they say he should have burned…"

"You almost did burn, when you were held captive, Matt," the doctor spoke, looking back at Casey now. "Do you think you should have died there?"

Casey lifted his head a little. "Yes… no… I don't know… there's too much…"

"Too much in your head? Too much noise?"

"I'm schizophrenic. I must be," Casey said insistently.

The doctor spoke to Casey for a while longer, Severide added more of his own input, which Casey was grateful for. The man left them in peace eventually, but only because Casey was struggling to remain awake. He fell asleep even before the door had closed behind the doctor. Severide went after the man since Casey would be oblivious. He caught him in the corridor.

"Sorry, I'm just really worried about him," Severide began.

"That's understandable. He's dealing with a lot right now," the doctor responded.

"What's going to happen?"

"The staff and I will be continuing to observe him for the next couple of days, we should have some more answers then," the man told Severide.

"Will he have to stay?" he asked.

"We'll only admit him if he's a danger to himself or others, or if he'd like to be admitted," the doctor responded honestly.

"What are your impressions at the moment?"

The doctor paused before answering, giving Severide the truth. "We may need to admit him onto our ward, but that's not set in stone, it's another discussion we'll have at a later date, we don't want to force it onto him."

"He thinks he's crazy, and that's driving him crazy… I… I didn't know about his mom, he never told me and I'm his best friend," Severide spoke heavily.

"It's not something people always feel comfortable sharing, and from speaking to Matt just now, I can tell he's not the sharing type," the man responded. "He's in the best place for now."

In the day that followed Severide couldn't bring himself to leave. Boden had come by to check on them both and he was met with Casey in the middle of one of his catatonic phases, in a way it was good because it meant the doctors could observe him further. But it didn't bode well for Casey's future at the CFD even if he somehow got past all of this. A serious psychiatric problem was never going to look good on Casey's medical record. Severide just hoped it wasn't quite as serious as Casey himself feared.

The end of his seventy-two hour hold came, but Casey didn't seem eager to leave, he figured he'd be kept here anyway. He was insane. This was it, he'd turned into his mother, the last thing that he'd ever wanted to happen.

"I suspect major depressive disorder with some psychosis," the doctor announced, Casey couldn't even remember when he'd entered the room, or if he'd spoken much before now. "I think the traumatic event you experienced sent you spiralling down, it sounds like you were depressed before you were held captive and this has worsened it all," the man continued.

"I'm not crazy? I'm depressed?" Casey asked, looking at the doctor. "But I am crazy... I'm hearing things..."

"You're not schizophrenic, Matt. You're depressed, the chemicals in your brain are unbalanced, that's what's causing your frequent catatonic phases too, and the hallucinations. They're both symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia, but they're the only symptoms and having spoken to you about how you're feeling, and to Kelly, it's depression, with some psychosis. Psychosis isn't too uncommon but catatonia is a pretty rare result of depression. Considering everything that's happened I'm tempted to say your brain is trying to protect you."

"If it's rare then why don't you think I'm schizophrenic? It makes sense, my mom is, I know it can run in the family," Casey said, shaking his head, he was sure it wasn't depression. He'd been depressed before, he'd been given medication before but he'd never taken any of it, and had never gone back to the doctor who'd prescribed it.

"Matt, you're going to struggle to trust me and that's understandable, I understand why you're worried, but the fact that you are worried and the way that you experience the catatonia leads me to believe it's caused by your depression. Psychotic depression is hard but it's something we can help with."

"Gonna chuck me on antipsychotics? They didn't work for mom, they turned her into a stranger to me…"

"No," the doctor responded, shaking his head. "They can make depression worse, for now we're going to start with some SSRI's, this isn't a quick fix, and to get the full benefit I really recommend that you talk to a psychiatrist. But we need to get you started on some medication to increase the serotonin and dopamine levels in your brain, I suspect low dopamine levels because of the catatonic phases, I think the best choice would be Paxil, it can take a while to work but it effects both chemical levels, if that doesn't work we can Adderall which is used for low dopamine levels. We've got options, Matt. We will sort this out."

Severide spoke up, until now he'd been letting Casey do the talking. "Adderall? Isn't that for ADHD?" he asked, brows knitted together.

"That's been its main medical use, but it can be fantastic for depression that's mostly caused by low dopamine," the doctor explained.

"Is there anyway to know what's causing it before starting him on medication?" Severide questioned.

"We can take some blood and urine samples, but sometimes that doesn't always mean we give the right medication to start with, each person reacts differently, something that should work on paper may not necessarily work. The tests aren't fully accurate yet, it's something people are still working on."

Severide nodded then looked to Casey. "What do you think, Matt?"

"Dunno…" Casey muttered after gazing at Severide for a moment. "Will they change me? I don't want to be someone I'm not," he continued after a while.

"Matt, at this point we really need to try something, I hate to say it but, you're probably just going to get worse," the doctor told him.

Severide took Casey's hand. "I'm worried about you; I'm worried you might do something unintentionally…"

"You want me to take them?" he asked Severide.

"Yes."

"I'll try them then…" Casey responded hesitantly.

Severide smiled at him. "Thank you."

Ducking his head and looking away again, Casey cleared his throat. "I don't want to go home," he announced quietly.

Severide turned to the doctor. "Can we have a moment, please?"

The doctor gave a nod and left the room, waiting out in the corridor, he could still see into the room through the large glass panel. Casey had been given very little privacy during his psychiatric hold.

"Matt, you hate hospitals... which I might understand now... was your mom in hospital a lot?" he asked.

Casey just nodded.

"Not nice for a kid to go through," Severide continued.

He only shrugged with one shoulder in response, Severide could tell even that movement pained him.

"You're not a burden," Severide suddenly stated. "You won't be a burden if you come home. I don't mind taking a little time off work."

"Why?"

"I'd do anything for you," Severide answered without missing a beat.

He didn't understand and it showed on his face. "I don't..."

"I care about you," Severide reiterated.

Casey's voice was small as he spoke. "What if its's not safe?"

It took Severide a moment to respond. "The diner was too much."

"Yeah... I can't even manage lunch at the diner."

"It was just too much too soon after everything," Severide excused.

"And for you?"

"For me?" Severide repeated.

"What if it's not safe for you? For me to be with you?" he asked Severide tentatively.

"Matt, if you'd feel better staying here, or another hospital, then you can do that, I'm not going to stop you. I'm just not sure you're doing it for the right reasons," Severide explained. "You're not going to hurt me," he added, because Casey had run away from him, been hit by a van, rather than listen to what the voices in his head were telling him.

"What if I get worse?"

"I think you're going to get better. You're not schizophrenic. You're depressed, and I'm going to help you with this."

"I'm not sure I should be alone," he spoke quietly.

"You won't be," Severide assured him.

"I'm so sorry…"

Severide was already shaking his head. "When I go crazy, I know you'll be there for me."

That made Casey smile, it was the first time Severide had seen him smile in a long while.

Months past by, Casey's physical injuries healed and his smiles increased as time went on. It wasn't easy, especially not to start with, in the end Severide had taken a whole six weeks off work, but it had helped, it had got Casey through the worst of it. The first lot of medication hadn't worked, even after some adjustments to the dosage, the Adderall worked though, it took a few weeks but the difference had been amazing, almost too good to be true. There'd been some side effects, dizziness and stomach pain to begin with but as Casey's body had become used to the medication they reduced. The idea of becoming dependent on medication to get him through the day wasn't appealing but his therapy sessions were helping, which he would begrudgingly admit because he still said he hated being in therapy. He was gaining the weight he'd lost and working out, the exercise improved his mood, and he had an aim in mind.

"Hey… you're up," Severide greeted him, smiling. He hadn't expected him to be awake when he returned home, having been out for lunch with Shay, trying to give Casey some space. He'd had a bad day, they were rare now but they still happened. Severide was just grateful he'd not been catatonic for more than two months now.

"Yeah," he responded, nodding. "Showered too," he added.

"You're looking good," Severide commented. He didn't often see Casey without any layers on nowadays, but right now he was standing in the kitchen wearing one of the fitted t-shirts he'd bought a few days ago. A shopping trip that had been suggested by his therapist, one he had dreaded, but it had all gone smoothly despite his fears.

"I'm trying," he said, shrugging, shoulder still a little stiff from his last physiotherapy session.

"You are, and you're succeeding."

"I spoke to Boden yesterday, gonna aim to get back to work in a few weeks, if it ends up being too much too soon, well, he said not to stress too much about it, I'll be ready though, miss that place," Casey told him, smiling. He was about to turn away but he stopped and faced Severide again. "Thank you, don't feel like I've said it enough."

"I'm just happy everything's worked out," Severide replied, smiling back at him.

"Not sure it would have without you. I owe you my life, in more ways than one, feels like I can breathe again now."

Severide gave him a nod, there wasn't any need for words, they understood each other. Understood that they'd do anything for each other.

"So, I was thinking I'd visit my mom, and I wondered if you'd like to come with me? I'd feel better doing it with you by my side," Casey asked him tentatively. Visiting his mother had come up during a recent therapy session and he'd concluded that he wanted to see her, but he, and his doctor didn't think it would be wise to do it without any support.

"It's a date," Severide quipped.

With a raised brow, Casey grinned. "With my mother."


End file.
